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Dear Ms. K.,

I received this email from you at 1:12 a.m. today. Have we met? Your name does not sound familiar. A quick search of Facebook revealed your account. We are not friends, so I’m not sure why I am on your mailing list.

I don’t want to keep you hanging on the edge of your seat waiting for my reply, so here it is:

No.

And not only no, but hell no.

While I was on your FB page seeing if we had any friends in common, I found this:

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And this:

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And, DEAR GOD, this:

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It’s clear we are not on the same page about how to make “Amarica” great again. (“Again” implies there was a time when we were better than we are now. When exactly was that? Based on the information you posted publicly, I’m guessing you believe it is when slavery was A-OK.)

This is a “no trainer” for me.

You stay in your basket, and I’ll stay in mine.

Most sincerely,
Beth

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doDear Mr. Trump,

Hi there! I’m Beth. I’m no one you’d know personally. I doubt six degrees of separation could apply to us. I’m just a middle-class mostly white voter — a voter with typical human emotions like joy and fear.

I’m sure this whole “running for president in 2016” venture started off as a lark. You know, like it did in 2000. Deep down, you probably are as surprised as anyone else that you are now the Republican nominee. I know the 16 candidates who dropped out are pretty shocked. (I personally feel the most sorry for Jeb Bush. I can’t imagine Thanksgiving with the family.) It’s a strange election indeed when Jeb Bush is not considered a viable candidate.

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Anyway, there’s been plenty of talk about you being, you know, related to SATAN, but I’m sure you can’t be that bad. I mostly liked you when you were on “The Apprentice.” I’m sure all your negative publicity is because of that danged liberal media. (I must have missed my liberal entrance exam when I started working in the media in 1988. I think I was part of the College Republicans then. Whoops. Glad my employers didn’t find out!)

But wait … isn’t Fox News conservative? They didn’t like you for a while either.

Anyway, I’m sure it is just a misunderstanding. I’m sure you are quite lovely in person.

I’d like to see for myself: My husband and I would like to invite you over for dinner. We have a modest house — certainly not Mar-a-Lago — but we are happy.

We are just trying to settle on the guest list. Here’s who’s on the list at the moment:

  1. Eddie. Eddie, of course, has to be at dinner because he lives here. I must warn you, though: He’s Puerto Rican. He was born in Puerto Rico. His family is from and lives in Puerto Rico. So maybe you want to stick to topics other than debt relief for Puerto Rico. He likes to talk about CrossFit.
  2. James. I also want to invite our friend James. I think you will get along well with him. After all, you said in 2011, “I have a great relationship with the blacks. I’ve always had a great relationship with the blacks.”
  3. Billy. I’d like to invite our friend Billy, but I’m not sure. He’s Muslim, so maybe he has to stay outside. I don’t want to offend you or violate your proposed ban on Muslims.
  4. Daniel. My ex brother-in-law Daniel likely will want to come. He’s Mexican, so I’ll get the kids to use their Legos to build a wall around him at the table. I think he bought them the Legos, in fact.
  5. Patrick. I think he’s part Native American, but he doesn’t really look “Indian.”
  6. Matt. My friend Matt is Jewish, but I don’t know if he is good at negotiating. I’ll check into that.
  7. Brian. He is a high school friend of mine who is gay. He’s single though. No problems there!
  8. My nephew. He’s from Canada (sorry), but he works at a bible college. As you are a “baby Christian,” he can help nurture you.
  9. My dad. He was in the military, but he wasn’t a POW. So that’s good.
  10. Royce. He’s a white male. I know you’ll love him.

Royce’s wife Sarah and I will be in the kitchen where we belong, trying to look sexy. (It’s our job, as you mentioned.)

I know you are busy — you are even having trouble scheduling important things like debates — but I hope you will make time for us. Please have your people call my people (my people = me). Looking forward to meeting you before the November 2016 election!

Earnestly yours,
Beth

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Dear Georgia Department of Revenue:

I see you still have not gotten your act together, despite my April 27 plea. At that point, it had been more than three weeks since I had mailed in my tax return that necessitated a refund.

Time passed.

Three more weeks.

The “Where’s my Refund?” portal indicated that my return had been received, and I should allow 30 business days to receive the refund.

I decided to call you last week (May 19 to be exact) just to see if I could narrow that field a bit.

I waited on hold for 30 minutes then received an option for a call back. I chose “yes” and got the requested call in fewer than 30 seconds (bizarre).

The foul-tempered woman on the phone revealed that my refund had been cleared for processing May 12, and it was in the queue to be deposited in my account. She informed me I should allow 30 business days.

That same day, the portal indicated that my refund was processing, and I should allow 15 business days.

This is what I found on the portal today:

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What the FRESH HECK is THAT? Ninety BUSINESS days?

There is a big difference between 15 business days (three weeks) and 90 business days (18 weeks) and even the 30 days (six weeks) quoted on two different occasions. Ninety days would mean I should have my refund by Sept. 16 — nearly SIX MONTHS after I mailed the return to you. You do realize that’s insane, right? Especially when you consider that I would have gotten it within 72 hours if I had been able to file electronically. Three more months from that date, and I’ll be filing for a new tax year.

Let that sink in a bit.

Get it together, Georgia. You already are out of whack in so many areas. Don’t add to the list.

I want my $2+!

I hate you. So much.

Sincerely angry,
Beth

 

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Dear Bathroom-fixated Bureaucrats/Legislators:

The abundance of so-called “bathroom bills” is mystifying to me. Why is this a thing? Am I supposed to carry my birth certificate with me just in case I’m stopped by the Potty Police? Can I not use the men’s room when the women’s room has a line 10 deep? Is there really an epidemic of pedophiles stalking children in bathrooms?

I’m not down with the POV of people and groups such as the Family Research Council on their support of these bills. To me, the FRC’s six “talking points” should never be spoken aloud, much less written. Are you folks listening to yourselves?

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I am NOT worried about pedophiles in the bathroom preying on my kids. Why? Because my kids are old enough to holler at someone who is doing something inappropriate and/or leave the bathroom immediately and tell Eddie, me or another adult in charge. Do other parents not discuss today’s version of stranger danger with their children? If my kids were younger, they would not be in the public bathroom without me or Eddie. So I don’t really understand what the fuss is all about.

I AM worried about a different kind of filthy person: the kind who leaves the bathroom a crime scene. I don’t want to have to wear a hazmat suit to answer nature’s call.

Where is the outrage over pee on the seat and floor?

Where is the disgust over lady products wadded haphazardly in disposal bins?

Where is the fuss over floaters?

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THAT is what bothers me on a daily basis, not the thought of a transgender person needing to use the facilities. I’m not even worried about sexual predators (see reason above). I’m worried about people who don’t wash their hands. Germs kill!

If you must have Privy Patrol, let them cite for infractions such as:

  • Burglary of All the Toilet Paper
  • Assault with a Deadly Scent
  • Leaving the Scene of an Accident

I’ll be writing my congressman.

Yours in Sanitation,
Beth

 

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The so-called Religious Freedom laws in Indiana and Arizona are polarizing, to be sure, and the events in Ferguson, Missouri, and beyond are more than disturbing. I thought we had evolved past the point of Other = bad. Not so. I was naive and stupid to think that because I believe difference = good, everyone else does too. This difference of opinion is not good. Ironic, I know.

I want welcoming and accepting voices to speak louder than those of people who do not believe all are created equal. Here’s another voice to add to the concert: Brian Harper in this guest post.

Dear gay people: 

You are my people and I love you. We should never tolerate being treated as lesser than anyone. If fact, no one should. It is nothing short of painful hearing religious leaders and politicians openly condescending to us daily. Imagine the message that kids are getting who are still figuring themselves out. It’s no wonder so many gay youth are committing suicide. This country is largely not a welcoming place, despite being referred to as the melting pot of the world. 

However, I’m really disappointed and sometimes shocked by the amount of name calling and hatefulness a lot of our community throws out at those who don’t agree with us. I understand and feel the anger and the pain and the frustration. How can people want so badly to control us and take away our simple happiness? Still, we have to do better. We can fight the good fight without tarnishing ourselves in the process. It’s easy to lash out towards ignorance with more ignorance. I’m guilty of it myself. I’m also acutely aware of how we are perceived the the statement we make with how we present our arguments. It’s important that we lead with love and empathy, wherever we can find it. Not everyone who thinks differently than us is bad. Most of them are just fearful of what they don’t understand. Sometimes it seems easier to beat people into submission, but that’s exactly what they are trying to do to us, and we deserve better. 

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Guest post by C. Brenon Day

To whoever is reading this and thinking about knocking on my door:

I go to work at 4 a.m. and need to sleep, or I am working on a painting that needs my full attention.

In the interest of time management, please see the warning category that might apply to you.

Family or friends: Bring sweet tea, chocolate and/or french fries. Call me on my cell.

Republican: Isn’t there a group you need to be suppressing or a book burning that needs organizing?

Democrat: Shouldn’t you be out trying to organize a protest or applying for a job?

Independent: You have Republicans and Democrats knocking on your own door, so why are you on my porch?

Green: You must be high. There is a gas station just down the street. They have Cheetos and Cheerwine. I don’t.

Tea Bag Party: There is a woman thinking about voting on something. Don’t y’all have rules in your manifesto against that? Go check your copy at home.

Religion representatives: Yes, I have found him. We are discussing your future outcome right now, in fact.

Alarm companies: Don’t mind that click; it’s just me turning the safety off. Oh, and if you see the large dog muzzle laying in the yard just leave it. I’ll pick it up on the way to my court-ordered anger-management meeting.

Yard care services: Question for you: If I bury a dismembered body in the yard, do I need to fertilize next year or will that be enough?

Cleaning supply or housekeeping care services: I know how to get blood out of carpet and get rid of DNA and fingerprints off of most surfaces, so I’m good, thanks!

All others: Just don’t.

Have a great day!


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Dear USPS deciders-in-chief:

I avoid the Fahm Street branch of the U.S. Postal Service in Savannah because the agents working there are always so unpleasant. Today was by far the worst “service” I’ve ever experienced. What follows is exactly what happened to Eddie, the kids and me today when we arrived for our passport renewal appointment referenced in my last post.

Scene: Two women working the counter. Each has a customer. I am the next person in line.

Woman 1: (Nametag covered by sweater) Can I help you?
Me: I’m here to renew a child’s and an adult’s passport.
Woman 1: (Looks at me blankly for at least five seconds while I look back. It lasts so long that I begin to wonder if I had actually spoken words to her.) The child doesn’t have to be here to renew the passport.

(This seems like an odd thing to say. It doesn’t change my reason for standing in front of her.)

Me: Yes, he actually does, along with both parents.
Woman 2 (to Woman 1): (As if we are not standing there) Do they have an appointment?
Woman 1 (to me): Do you have an appointment?
Me: Yes, at 2:15.
Woman 1: (Sighs and goes to get a book from the back then returns to the counter) Your name?
Me: Concepción
Woman 1: (Looks at me as if my name is an affront to all that she values in life, then looks at the book again) What’s that name?
Me: Concepción. C-O-N-C-E-P-C-I-O-N. 2:15 today.
Woman 1: (Apparently finding my name) Wait over there or in the chairs. It doesn’t matter. She’ll be with you in a moment.
Me: Who will be with me?
Woman 1: (Indicates Woman 2 with her head)

Waiting commences. We watch Woman 1 be unfriendly to four more customers. Woman 2 finishes passport paperwork for her customer.

Woman 2: (To the whole lobby, even though we are standing four feet in front of her and facing her) Concepción!
Me: I have a child and adult passport renewal.
Woman 2: (Nametag reads “Mrs. B. Mobley”) We don’t do adult renewals here.
Me: (Smiling and trying to be friendly) OK, but I can mail it from here.
Mrs. B. Mobley: (Looks at me in a hostile manner) Yes.

I hand her my materials. She looks at Dominic’s photo.

Mrs. B. Mobley: This photo is not the right format. The face is too close. Our camera is broken. You can send it in anyway and see if they contact you.
Me: I followed the instructions on the U.S. Department of State website …
Mrs. B. Mobley: (Cutting me off) That is not my concern. I asked you if you wanted to send it in as is and see if they process it or contact you for a different photo.
Me: (Noting her condescending tone and reflecting my dissatisfaction with a tightness around my eyes and mouth) Yes. I want to send it in.

She fills out paperwork while I make sure Eddie’s renewal paperwork is in order. In a very clipped tone, she requests various things such as signatures, a check for the renewal, and a $25 processing fee (!). (I have to pay for the five minutes it takes to have this paperwork processed by a surly employee?)

Me: (After watching how she attaches Dominic’s photo to the application) May I borrow your stapler? (She hands it to me with a sigh.) I just put it on like you just did?
Mrs. B. Mobley: (No answer. Just a nasty look.)
Me: (Thinking “Why you gotta be so mean?“) How much is the renewal fee for adults?
Mrs. B. Mobley: $110.
Me: And I just put this all in an envelope and send it off? There’s nothing else?
Mrs. B. Mobley: (Still condescending) That’s how it works.

She finalizes Dominic’s paperwork. I finalize Eddie’s and mail it off. The process is over, thankfully. This is 20 minutes of perhaps the worst customer service I’ve ever experienced.

Do you deliberately seek the most ill-natured people you can find for your customer service positions? These two women have no business dealing with the public.

Look, we all know the USPS is in trouble and hemorrhaging money. Don’t you think you could help your situation by improving customer service? Stop advertising and start improving the experience for the people who are paying you. It’s your only hope!

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I would rather gnaw off my own arm than go to the Fahm Street location again. There are other passport locations. For my mail needs, I’ll continue using my local post office. The people are inept, but at least they are nice.

Sincerely,
Beth

*apologies to Holiday Inn

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67517_600Dear USPS deciders-in-chief:

I think I know why the USPS is in trouble.

  1. I went to my local post office to mail Christmas cards at the beginning of December. They did not have any holiday stamps. None. What’s up with that?
  2. In the middle of December, I requested a mail hold for a three-day span. Two days after it expired, I still had not received my mail. I called my local post office to find out the mail’s whereabouts. The woman on the phone seemed to have no understanding of how the online mail hold request system worked, no idea where my mail was, or how to reach my carrier. She said they don’t have cell phone numbers for carriers because they are not allowed to contact them while they are out. Um … what?!?
  3. I needed to mail a package to my brother-in-law at the end of December. My local post office printed a label for Priority Mail at a cost of $55. Shocked by that price, I balked. The woman told me that there was nothing she could do because she already printed the postage sticker. I had to pay the price.

Neither snow nor rain nor heat nor gloom of night stays these couriers from the swift completion of their appointed rounds.
— inscription on the James Farley Post Office in New York City

Yeah, well, crappy management might.
— Beth, consumer

Is this just December craziness or evidence of a larger problem? I’m inclined to choose the latter because of this:

I need to renew Dominic’s passport. As he is a minor, he must come in person to an authorized passport location, along with Eddie and me. There are only two post offices in Savannah where you can renew minor passports: The main post office on Fahm Street and the Eisenhower branch.

The process took fewer than five minutes last time. The agent had to look at the identification for all three of us and sign the form.

Yet now you require an appointment. An appointment! And when I called to make this appointment, I couldn’t get one for three weeks. Really?!? Is that your bright idea or does it belong to some genius at the U.S. Department of State?

Also, there are no Saturday appointments, so that means I have to pull Dominic out of school, and Eddie and I have to take off work to go to this appointment. Brilliant.

If you’d like to stay in business, you might want to consider customer needs a bit more. Just a thought!

Sincerely,
Beth

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Dear Colonel Al-Kurdi Malik:

Thank you for your recent email. You are clearly a busy man — what with leading the Free Syria Army and all — so I feel honored that you chose me as a correspondent along with other “undisclosed recipients.”

During this personal discussion, could you explain how the Free Syria Army (FSA) is different from the Free Syrian Army (FSA)? I’ve heard of the latter and am familiar with it as the Western-backed rebel group fighting Syrian President Bashar al-Assad. Is the Free Syria Army a group of discount hunters or part of the Freegan movement?

According to various news reports, Brigadier General Abdul-llah al-Bashir is the leader of the Free Syrian Army. There’s a Colonel Malik al-Kurdi who is the deputy commander of the FSA. Is that you?

If so, congratulations on the promotion to “leader.” What happened to that al-Bashir guy? He only lasted a week!

With all due respect as I know English is not your first language, maybe you should proofread your emails. I’m sure you didn’t really want to send me a “massage.” (Although, I do feel fairly tense right now.)

In addition, here’s another bit of advice: If you want to protect your identity as you indicate, maybe you shouldn’t grant interviews to various media outlets.

Anyway, thanks for writing. I can’t wait to be your pen pal!
Beth

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